seeing yourself seeing.

writing gnitirw

Forgive the lack of photos of late, i just found out my dad's been hiding this Nikon camera in his cupboard all these years! So i've taken the poor thing into my keep, and now its serving me well. Guess if i get any good shots i'll have to scan them in. haha.

But enough of my photo exploits, they've just finished painting my house! so for a few weeks, maybe three, my house was surrounded by towering, rusting, orange-paint-peeling scaffolding, with jarring green netting and rotting wooden planks. how awesome. i get to see the whole process. but then again, they do all the work when i'm in school. ok, enough architecture nerding already. then you're faced with the daily - walking past the painter dudes. decided to chat with them a bit, a bit of small talk, you know, like hey, how was breakfast, makan already? when are you gonna finish this thing, blablabla. i mean, they were there for weeks on end; i'd much rather get to know em rather than do the bratty cold shoulder thing. and its amazing how much hokkien the indian and the thai guys know. they put me to shame.

speaking of which, how many of you reading this actually know, seriously know how to speak your dialect darn well? ok, maybe not damn well but good enough to engage in conversation with the everyday hawker vendor? or how about ordering a bowl of noodles entirely in your dialect. i realise that a lot of us today are neglecting this. Its no wonder we feel rootless; its because we choose to neglect our roots. For those of us( chinese, sorry bout the rest, guys and gals), we have to feel at least the slightest bit proud of what and who we are.

And you know what i realised? Ironically, (some of you may have discussed this before) its those of us who have gone overseas, and experienced life with other cultures, that have come back home and realised and cherished, and treasured our true roots, and who we are. know your roots lah.

rambling gnilbmar